


Fear

by Pie_pecans_and_parrots



Series: How We Love In The Shadows [11]
Category: NCT (Band), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shadow World Setting (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Battle, Fae & Fairies, Loss, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Requited Love, faerie!Sicheng, faerie!Taeyong, faerie!Ten, warlock!Chenle, warlock!Kun, warlock!renjun, werewolf!Johnny, werewolf!yuta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 23:50:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17632106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pie_pecans_and_parrots/pseuds/Pie_pecans_and_parrots
Summary: Fear wasn’t something he usually felt.Being immortal meant a shrinking reserve of emotions because after a while, nothing was new anymore. Nothing frightened him anymore.





	Fear

Fear wasn’t something he usually felt.

Being immortal meant a shrinking reserve of emotions because after a while, nothing was new anymore. Nothing frightened him anymore.

He supposed this came close.

Not that he was afraid of the demons invading his land – more of the realisation, that for once, his existence was in serious danger. He wondered if mundanes felt this way all the time – in constant fear of death, of their own mortality.

They were losing, badly.

Ten was compartmentalizing, filing away any grief or rage he felt for later examination – because despite the horror of watching his people, his family and friends, being slaughtered – any emotional distraction may be his last moment.

From his crouching position, he had a good angle through the two brethren he was fighting with, straight into the maw of the kappa demon attacking them. His arrow flew true, and within seconds – the creature was gone – revealing the cluster of raveners approaching them.

Ten bared his fangs at the things – they were outnumbered, and too far from the lake to get assistance from any others. He raised his bow anyway – fitting another arrow onto his string with a detached mechanical movement.

Then – out of nowhere, boulders exploded into being, with bright flashes of green magic. With ear-wrenching squeals, two of them were squashed dead, the third’s leg pinned underneath a boulder.

Ten whirled in place – taking in the sight of the man who had just thrown the magic rocks. He was average looking, with a kind curl to his lips and softness in his eyes that made him look sweet rather than plain. His glamour was also thick enough that Ten couldn’t see what marks he was concealing. But the green light swirling around his hand was enough to tell him that this warlock was here to help them.

“You’re late to the party, warlock.” He said flippantly, before a movement behind him caught his attention. The last demon leapt towards him with no hesitance, giving him barely a second to bring up an arrow to stab it into the heart of the creature. With another yowl, it collapsed in on itself, folding into nothing.

“My apologies.” The warlock said softly, but his voice held an undertone of steel – and Ten watched as he slammed the heavy looking bronze topped staff down on the skull of the pinner ravener – killing it with one blow. Ten regarded him for another moment, weighing up his rate of survival if he stuck with the warlock – versus staying with his brethren, whom he knew and trusted. The warlock was surveying the battle-field, and it took Ten all of a moment to make a decision. The look of deep sorrow and worry in the warlock’s eyes was enough to persuade him of his loyalty. He nodded his kin off, watching them run towards the lake. “Is the queen alive?” the warlock drew his attention again.

““The royal family are taking refuge in the hall with our unarmed and children, safe for now – but if they breach the lake, I don’t know how much longer they’ll be that way.” Ten raised his bow as the warlock released a great plume of fire at a group of approaching demons, picking off the ones that escaped the spell. He took refuge behind the boulders, shooting mindlessly at anything that wasn’t fae. It occurred to him – as they were forced to huddle together – that he hadn’t introduced himself. “My name is Ten.”

“Kun.” The warlock – Kun – said with a faint nod. “I’ve sent my boys to the court to try and add to the wards, but I don’t know if they’ll be able to fully modify the wards in time.” Ten nodded – unsure of who exactly his ‘boys’ were, but appreciating the gesture all the same.

“Then we will hold off as long as we can.” He said – all too aware of the note of finality in his own voice.

It was funny, how immortality lost its meaning in the face of danger.

 

* * *

 

Ten could feel the earth around him revolting against the filth desecrating it. The old fae magic that had warded the lands of his home was so ancient it was practically alive. The demons were an insult as well as a threat.

With his back to the lake, his bare feet in the trampled grass – it was easy to connect with the land. But it offered no help, only comfort.

A final word of warmth – for they were losing.

Even his warlock ally – with all his impressive power – was weakening, and his glamour had faded, revealing his lily-white hair glowing, skin the perfect shade of an abutilon vitifolium, and green eyes like spring. Now, Ten could see his beauty, despite the grime and exhaustion on his face. He was growing distracted, and Ten – out of some misguided, immature loyalty – had to protect his back more than once as the line began to thin, and his shielding charm slipped.

Ten felt a numbing sort of desperation rise in him then. He watched, as Haeliorn, a friend, was cut down by a slash of a long claw. Around him, kin and friend and family alike were being cut down – and soon enough – he would join them on the desecrated ground, feed the earth with his life blood.

It took him a long moment to realise that the mournful sound rising above the hellish soundscape of the battle was not his imagination – that the howling was real.

Out of the trees, the powerful and familiar forms of their wolf allies stepped into sight.

Ten felt his heart skip a beat – and felt time suspend for a moment – as he met the silver eyes of the alpha leading his pack. “ _Johnny.”_  The name slipped from his lips like a prayer. How funny – the very thing he pushed away so viciously, would be here to aid him in his darkest hour. Though Johnny had always been too good for him, too good for the cruelty of his heart and this world – and he could hardly be surprised. It didn’t stop his breath from catching in his throat.

Johnny’s rumble, loud and terrible, was the starting gun for the wolves – and of course, he, with all his strength and power, led them into battle. Ten couldn’t tear his eyes away at the collision of the forces – he could hear the snapping and snarling of the wolves from where he stood, and the screeches of the confused demons. It was the opportunity they needed to gain ground – and yet, Ten could not bring himself to move.

He had not seen Johnny for weeks, months now – had deliberately avoided going to any meetings at the Institute, had not even stepped foot outside the kingdom. He was supposed to be avoiding the man, avoiding the softness in his eyes – which inspired the weakness of his own heart.

He supposed it was his own fault that he was caught off guard then – foolishly distracted as he was – and the clawed hand that came for him should have killed him. But the sudden leap of a wolf, with mottled-fur, caught the blow. With a whining yelp, the wolf was impaled in front of him – the light fading quickly from its blue eyes. Ten swallowed thickly, quickly raising his bow – killing the demon – as the wolves began to howl for their fallen comrade. Ten could only pray it wasn’t one of Johnny’s pack.

Ten formed a chain with Sicheng, Kun and Sicheng’s wolf lover – who was doggedly defending the usually peaceful faerie with crazed eyes. Together, they were able to gain some ground back – and Ten felt his spirits rise as, around the battle-field, pops of multicoloured portals spat out the warlocks that controlled them. Kun obviously knew them, and once again – Ten had to marvel at the soft-looking man. He was clearly the most powerful there, and they all seemed to defer to him, fighting to get through to him.

For a moment, everything seemed possible – Ten had been watching Johnny from the corner of his eye, and he was fine – they were making headway, allies by their side.

And then, as if called forth in spite of Ten’s fleeting, foolish hope, the next wave were upon them with no warning or mercy. Ten’s mouth flooded with bile at the surge of bodies that hit the ground, cut down by the monsters like grasses before a scythe. He didn’t even realise that they had broken the line until he was following Kun and Sicheng’s mad sprint towards the breach. By the time they had gotten there, it was too late, and Ten found himself separated from them.

He fought alone – cold rage filling him.

He cursed the creatures that were killing his people, he cursed the Shadowhunters for their absence, and he cursed himself for thinking about Johnny as the demons closed in around him.

Like he had summoned him – like Johnny had heard his desperate, disconcerting thoughts – the pitch-black wolf appeared by his side, and Ten felt his stomach flip. As if he was some giddy mundane, and they were not in the heat of a battle that would overrun them any second.

Johnny very rarely showed his wolf – and Ten had only seen it once before – and the most recognizable feature about his canine form were his distinctive grey eyes. They were like moonlight, and precious silver, and Ten had seen flashes of them in throes of passion, when Johnny was baring his soul – transcending his human form to something else. Ten realised, rather belatedly, that he thought Johnny was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen – inside and out.

The moment was broken when Johnny whipped his head around and bit out at the sweeping tail of a scorpus demon. Ten was once again, not quick enough, and the stinging pain across his face let him know he’d been caught by the long spike. This –  _weakness_  – was why he had tried to distance himself from the man in the first place.

Johnny’s low whine as the creature crumbled to dust made him smile half-heartedly. “Just a scratch.” He said merrily, even as the hand he had pressed to his face came away red with his own blood. Johnny made another low noise – which Ten recognized as a disgruntled sound he made when he was human. “I’ll be alright.” He said quietly, taking a brief, daring moment to touch the fur of Johnny’s neck. Johnny blinked at him. Ten couldn’t look at him anymore. “We’re going to die here.” He announced, feeling a dreadful sort of morbid resolution fill him. “And so long as we are going to our deaths, and I will never have to say this next thing again, I will admit to you that I – I suffer from the affliction of an affection.” Ten cleared his throat, and fired his second last arrow into a demon. “For you.” He finished awkwardly. Johnny was silent beside him, in their own little pocket of deathly peace, bracketed in by bodies. Ten fired his last arrow. “And I know that it is far too little too late. I know I have broken your heart. But consider it as payback for stealing mine.” Ten watched the next group of demons come upon them with a light heart. Johnny was still beside him, and Ten wondered if the man had accepted his fate as well. At least they would go together.

Ten closed his eyes as the first of them approached, and stepped in front of Johnny.

_Let it be a swift death, painless – though I don’t much deserve it._

The Shadowhunters came like dawn breaking, light and all-consuming. Ten watched the pair of boys that had saved him run off. They had been smiling – like this was all some terrible game.

 

* * *

 

The bodies of the dead were too many to celebrate it as a victory.

The Shadowhunters did so anyway, laughing and clapping each other heartily. Like this was sport to them. Showing up in the final hour to be the heroes. Downworlders were as good as backdrops to the Nephilim; props in their majestic story, to be villains or victims – but never friends, never equals.

Ten stood from his crouch over the broken body of one of his cousins. He had known him – not well enough to be close, but well enough to feel another stabbing pain at his loss, along with all the other cuts to his soul.

Sicheng stood nearby him, staring unseeingly at the body of his half-brother.  _It never got easy, losing loved ones._  The shirtless man whispering into his left ear had Tender eyes, yet the faint edge of something less tame told Ten that he must have been Sicheng’s wolf. The Nephilim on his right was bleeding, though he didn’t seem to notice, eyes fixed intensely on Sicheng’s face, his scarred hand on the back of Sicheng’s neck. Ten looked away from them – to where Johnny was talking to one of the healers, the Shadowhunter with a whip curled at his waist, and two warlocks, the shorter, thinner of which, had a pitch black mullet.

He couldn’t feel regret for what he had said – he regretted enough of the things he had said and done for Johnny. For now, he had to have peace with the thought that Johnny couldn’t love him, not after the cruelty of his treatment.

Ten walked into the kingdom. He knew what had happened, knew of Kun’s boys and their fight to protect their royals, and then Kun’s own final act of power that had stopped the attack. The prince was already besotted with him, and Ten smiled at his own little stab of possessiveness over the warlock. He should fetch the children, if the attending nurse hadn’t already.

The clamour of high voices from one of the waiting rooms drew his attention and he changed his course, opening the door to find two young warlocks tussling with one of the guard – Jilyn, a ranger under his command – who looked equal parts exasperated and frightened. The brunet, with delicate looking stag antlers branching from his head, had his teeth sunk into Jilyn’s arm. At making eye contact with Ten, he retracted his grip almost sheepishly. He flushed under his white speckles. The other, scales shimmering delightfully in the low-light and a bandage wrapped around his arm, hadn’t seemed to notice Ten’s entrance and was still trying to escape Jilyn’s grip.

“At ease, Jilyn.” The man looked relieved, and let go of the two warlocks, who landed with a thump on the floor. “What’s going on?” Ten couldn’t help the note of amusement in his voice.

Jilyn cleared his throat. “I was sent to fetch them, sir, but when I came in they attacked me and accused me of kidnapping their, uh, Kun-ma.”

“Our father. The High Warlock Kun.” The deer-boy said defiantly. “We want to see him! We’ve been locked in here for hours.”

Ten laughed. “Rest easy, little warlocks, I’ll take you to your father – he has just been resting, and the wounded have been treated.”

“Is he alright?” the scaled one asked quietly.

Ten nodded. He didn’t know, but he had faith in the faerie healers, and the prince was with him. “Come along.” The two boys scrambled to get out the door first, and Ten turned to Jilyn, who was rubbing at the bite-mark with a long-suffering expression. “Jilyn, if you would lead a group to scour the woods – perhaps attempt to find the origins of the demonic forces.”

“Yes, sir.” Jilyn nodded, and Ten inclined his head, before hurrying after the two young warlocks.

“Through this door then, little warlocks.” Ten indicated the door, stopping the argument between the pair about which room Kun was in. The blond shot him a grateful look, before barrelling through the door with a loud cry, his brother following him closely.

Kun’s eyes were wide with shock, and Ten caught the look he shot Taeyong, and the way their lips were swollen. The prince was never one for moving slowly. Ten nodded to Kun, who’s face had softened at the sight of him. He bowed to Taeyong, who had his little secret smile on – the one which meant Ten was due to hear gossip as soon as they were alone. “My prince, the final patients have been discharged. The others are still waiting on you and the warlock’s appearance.” Ten informed him, shooting him a warning look. Taeyong’s shrug was almost imperceptible.

“Thank you, captain. You are dismissed.” Ten held back a sigh as he left. Taeyong fell in love like spring bloomed year after year – continually and without bias, and with all the beauty of new life. Ten had always envied his friend’s open heart.

A twinge in his shoulder as his armour pinched at his skin, reminded him to stop and think of himself for a moment.

 

* * *

 

The showers were empty when he finally made it down, and he shed his armour, hastily stepping under the waterfall. The cold water was a welcome shock, rousing him and refreshing his tired body. Afterwards, he thought he might take a turn in the hot-pools.

He knew what he was doing – deliberately thinking of anything but the man in the back of his mind.

The water ran black with the blood and ichor and dirt he rinsed off his body, and he kept scrubbing – mind wandering to the blank eyes of his people, the broken forms of loved ones he had lost. The pumice stone was starting to hurt now, the rough edges digging into his skin – yet still he washed himself, trying to remove any traces of the horror he had seen.

A hand closed around his, grip warm and tight, stilling his frantic movements. The familiar body that stepped into the spray behind him was tall and broad – and Ten shivered at the closeness.

“You’re hurting yourself.” Johnny’s voice was a low rumble in his ear, as he traced the bleeding scrapes Ten had opened on his own skin. Ten didn’t dare move as Johnny took the stone from him, as the man rinsed off the suds on his body and then held him to himself. Ten only realised he was trembling after Johnny’s grip tightened. “Are you cold?” he asked softly – always caring, always gentle.

Ten didn’t have time to shake his head, before Johnny had lifted him, and by force of habit, Ten wound his arms around the man’s neck. Johnny lowered them into the nearest hot pool. The water felt scalding on his skin, stinging the grazes on his arms and legs. Johnny was looking at him, eyes solemn.

_“…I know I have broken your heart. But consider it as payback for stealing mine…”_

His own voice came back to him, and he felt heat rise in his cheeks. For once he couldn’t find any words.

“How long?” Johnny broke the silence in a whisper, barely audible over the sound of the falls. He looked gauzy through the steam.

“Too long.” Ten replied, and Johnny’s face twisted with something.

“Would you give me a straight answer? For once?” he asked, voice rougher.

Ten faltered. “Well, I – I suppose… it must have been – the night I met your pack.” It hadn’t been a formal introduction, and Ten’s memory of the encounter was hazy at best, but that drunken night at the Neo City club, bracketed by Johnny’s arms, and warm with alcohol and the pride that was in Johnny’s voice as he presented Ten to his pack – was enough for Ten to realise that he would give anything to see that smile on Johnny’s face. That smile for Ten.

“For that long…” Johnny’s voice was pained. “All this time… I thought I was the fool. Chasing a fantasy. You always made that very clear.”

Ten’s heart ached. “Of course I did. I am cruel, Johnny – surely you’ve noticed that by now. I couldn’t have you knowing you were a weakness.” Johnny looked away from him, and to his surprise and embarrassment, he felt his throat close, tears welling up in his eyes. “You are everything I hated, mortal, too kind, too soft, too damn selfless. And you can imagine my  _fear_ , when you began to inspire the same in me.” He sobbed, “I love you, stupid man – and I can’t believe you managed to-”

He was cut off when Johnny descended on him, his kiss was familiar, bruising with its intensity – and Ten fell into him. Johnny was wet and hot against him, Ten’s tears on both of their cheeks, and he knew he looked a mess – but Johnny was staring at him as he pulled back. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” He said, almost wonderingly. Ten gave a wet snort, and rubbed at his eyes furiously, trying to banish the sign of emotion. Johnny caught his hand. “I think you’re beautiful.” He said.

“I’m sorry.” Ten whispered.

Johnny nodded. “I know. It’ll be okay. Just…  _please_ … don’t push me away again – I think it would destroy me.” His voice was so earnest and frank that Ten felt new tears roll down his cheeks. He kissed Johnny again, revelling in the new passion that came with love.

 _Love_.

Love wasn’t something he usually felt.

Being immortal meant a shrinking reserve of emotions because after a while, nothing was new anymore. Nothing frightened him anymore.

Love frightened him, but he wasn’t afraid anymore – not with Johnny by his side.


End file.
